One Girl's Journey
by Late to the Party
Summary: The Sword Coast is littered with problems. Problems that need solving. A few kind but firm words, a listening ear, and enough patience, and all disputes can be resolved. Even the bitterest of foes can end up friends. Maerésu puts this into practice. AU.
1. Soap suds leave wrinkly skin

**A/N**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the names, characters, setting contained within. Bioware/Black Isle/Interplay does, with one exception (which I am almost ashamed to admit): Maerésu/Maraesu.**

* * *

I

It wasn't fair. Gorion couldn't even spell her name properly. He wouldn't stop nagging her. Nag, nag, nag. He was _so_ mean. The golden haired girl smiled brightly. She couldn't stay mad at him for long. He was so lovely, when he wasn't nagging. He just didn't understand she was made for better things than washing up, or shaking out her bedcovers. It was _boring_ to sit around for hours reading dusty old tomes. Why, even stuffy old Ulraunt doted on her, the silly old thing. She even convinced him to grow a moustache, just so she could tweak and curl it on one end. Whenever the Keeper of the Tomes (what a pompous title) was getting too stuffy, she'd just lean over and give it a little tug; he'd stop, think about it, and remember himself. Then he'd pretend to look stern, be unable to hold back his smile, and everything would be all right again.

Even _Reevor_ loved her, the silly old dwarf. She wasn't going to kill rats! She smiled dazzlingly up at the two lovebirds on the ramparts; they chirped cheerfully and flew off to do the private things that birds and bees did. Silly little things, so adorable.


	2. Not CPR

II

"_No!"_

She'd cried, rushing to Gorion's fallen form, so cruelly marred by that hideous, _nasty_ big, black sword. Quickly, she pressed her hands to his chest, ignoring the towering golden-eyed giant of a man and his indignant glare. She fixed him a glare of her own until sheepishly, he lowered his sword and ordered his minions to retreat. She had been _very_ cross that day.

She woke with a start, remembering it as vividly as if it were yesterday. It had all been a terrible misunderstanding; after that, she sent Gorion back to Candlekeep to recover, and she and Imoen set off on great adventures, rescuing cows and correcting misinformed Xvarts, meeting Ursa their guardian bear and getting piggyback rides, putting up with lectures from stuffy old Jaheira (who secretly loved her) and dear old Khalid, making Mulahey apologise to Mayor Ghastkill of Nashkel, and ensuring that the half-orc served penance in Helm's temple under Nalin; freeing the kobolds from Mulahey's tyranny and convincing them to work together with Nashkel's villagers for the benefit of all; settling that nasty old mage's score with that dear old witch in that garish carnival tent… setting aside old hatreds between a Thayan and two Rashemen… everywhere she went, she settled old scores by righting wrongs, and explaining that just by _talking_, and _listening_ to each other, calmly, with reasoned arguments, after letting it all out, things could be set right.

She took a deep breath. That was a long thought.

She had _even_ got her mean old brother to put aside his sword and become a monk at Candlekeep, content to set aside his role in the prophecy so she could take her rightful place, (which she didn't want, and told him so), and had words with the silly voice in her dreams, telling her father how silly he was, and how he should stop this now, or she would be very, very cross, and shade or not, if he didn't stop it right now, she would give him a piece of her mind. And, while he was at it, he should tell her siblings to stop fighting too. Or else. With a capital 'E'. And Bhaal, dead god of murder or not, daddy or not, did not want Trouble. Oddly enough, it seemed to be Imoen's threat of dying the shade's armour pink that made him back down. Well, it didn't matter. Her father was dead, except in her dreams, and was always careful to be polite. She explained that he didn't have to remain dead; as long as his children were alive, he would live in them, and she was quite content to chat with him; in fact, it would be nice to. She was even looking into a way of bringing him back _without_ killing anyone, and then they could have tea together. Instead of being a nasty god of murder, he was now an ex-god of murder, repented of his wicked ways, and now cared more about being Daddy than about killing. He still had an absurd hatred of gnomes, and imps, but she was working on that too. Not every gnome, she explained, was arrowbait, (even if most of them _did_ deserve it).

That was another long thought.

One day, she promised, Daddy, Gorion and Sarevok would all sit down to tea with her and Immy, and maybe she could invite Gromnir and Balthazar. She wasn't sure Abazigal would like tea, being a blue dragon and all, but she couldn't imagine anyone not liking tea. There was always coffee, or hot chocolate; even apple juice. She would find _something_ her draconic brother liked, even if it was pomegranate juice. (It didn't matter if she had to reach through inter-reality portals to find it either; nothing was too good for her friends and family).


	3. Black and Silver make ObsidianSteel

III

Irenicus was a very hurt, very broken elf. She had seen that immediately, despite the fact his ears were hidden, and he hid his face behind a mask, and his body was almost as muscled as Brother Sarevok's. (Now Sarevok was a monk, he deserved a capital 'b' for Brother). She explained that he didn't need to do this, and after a while, he put down his scalpel, and apologised for cutting her. She told him it was quite all right and healed herself the same way she had with Gorion. All that was left were a few artful scars, faint white lines touching her temple-brow, and one very cute one near the tip of her nose. It wasn't very deep, but it added something, she felt. (She kept them as a reminder of how wise, kind words could heal even the most broken of hearts and minds). Irenicus had even kissed her scars better and promised not to hurt anyone ever again. Then she had taken him back home, explained what had happened to the woman he loved, their gods, and the elven people of Suldanessellar, and he had his soul restored. Bodhi had her soul restored too, and she had kissed the vampiress' cheeks and been kissed back; Bodhi promised never to eat another mortal again, and then the gods had made her elven once more. It really was very touching.

She had also visited the Underdark with Ellesime, Irenicus(who's real name was Joneleth), and Bodhi, and Elhan(the elven general of Suldanessellar's armies), walked boldly up to the gates of Ust Natha, and demanded (politely) to speak with Matron Ardulace, Phaere and Solaufein. At first they didn't want to, but she insisted. And they listened. Then she explained how silly their war was, made them give back the silver dragon Adalon's eggs, and threatened if they misbehaved again, she'd be back and give them a verbal spanking. Sheepishly, they all apologised to each other. (She folded her arms and tapped her foot until they did). Then she made Phaere marry Solaufein(who had fallen in love with her, silly drow; his heart really belonged to Phaera, but drow were fickle in their crushes sometimes), and Ardulace married Elhan and Adalon went to be with the black dragon Nizidramanii'yt who Joneleth knew. (The two dragons would take a while to get to know each other, but she knew they really would like each other, once they saw past each others' scales. Nizidramanii'yt really was a very handsome dragon, and Adalon _was _very pretty).

She had also released some dryads Irenicus kept, talked some sense into some foul tempered (and even fouler mouthed) Duergar, and spoken very sharply to some naughty goblins and bad thieves until they all agreed to play nice, not steal from people any more, and help the paladins become less 'uptight'. (She wasn't quite sure what this would involve, but she decided to ignore what 'removing sticks' would mean. It could only be a good thing for the paladins to relax. They were a little like Ulraunt. Nice, but stuffy.)


	4. One thing everyone agrees on

IV

The Solar was very annoying. She tried to tell her things she already knew, warn her about the prophecy – didn't the Solar understand that she, Tamoko and Cythandria had all sat down to tea and decided what was best for their men? Men couldn't decide anything for themselves; sixteen years in Candlekeep had taught her that. She had already discussed things with Daddy, and told him to lay off Sarevok, and Daddy had. But then the Solar started going on about Momma, and that really wasn't very nice at all. Momma was dead. But Momma and Daddy were together, somewhere, somehow, so that was all right. The Solar was using silly words, like "lineage"; did it matter if her Grandfather was a Gem Dragon (Crystal and Amethyst; her great-great Grandfather was a gold); Grandmother was a Diva (not like this stuffy solar, and grandmother's grandfather had been a Solar), and mother had been a half dragon, half diva, and Daddy, of course, was Bhaal. (She suspected that Daddy, when he was a mortal, had some dragon in him somewhere; it only made sense. A black, most likely. And maybe a demon, but she didn't really want to think about that. She was certain that Daddy's great, great, great, great grandfather was a fey-ri, from an incubus, and his great-great-great-great grandmother was a nymph, but Daddy didn't like to say, only hinted at it.)

The Solar even seemed _jealous_ that _her_ hair wasn't as nice as the gold that crowned her own scarred brow. (Sometimes it was silver, other times pale opal.) It shimmered, but her Bhaalpowers made her iridescent, like a living crystal dragon (she liked to think she was a _pearl_ or _opal_ dragon, but not as opaque as a pearl. A rainbow pearl, that shimmered. Imoen's comment was very naughty though! Her sister really had a dirty mind sometimes; she would have to have words about that. It made her blush just to think about it. 'Ya kinda translucent sis, so would you PLEASE PUT A SHIRT ON?' So rude!)

Still, after sitting the Solar down, (she couldn't believe the Solar refused tea at first! She had to settle for giving her grape juice of all things), she gently explained how boring and silly the Solar was being, and the Solar agreed (eventually, after arguing a little, but that was to be expected). After sending the Solar back to Ao to inform him the crisis was resolved, and there would be no more killing or murder, so Daddy could just be brought back and had agreed to change his ways, she was finally free to get back to what was important: saving the world by settling trivial disputes. A firm hand, some gentle words, and some understanding.

She even made a new friend; his name was Cespenar. He chattered too much, but he was so endearing and adorable, she even removed his muzzle and took him off his lead for walkies now and then. She insisted that he talk properly, and sip tea like a _civilised_ person. (He looked so adorable in that white and pink polka dot skirt, stockings and buckle shoes, with that pink bow behind one ear…)


	5. Even perfumed between his scales

V

It was a few tendays later, after solving a dispute between Amaunator and a being called the 'Shade Lord' (she convinced them that both shadows and sunlight had their place, and they could live in peace with the werewolves, villagers and the trees – Jaheira liked the last one, and had even learned to stop nagging), that she found her biggest challenge of all.

His name was Lord Jierdan Firkraag and he was beautiful. She had never seen such lovely scales, the colour of crimson tempered in the sunset, awash and aglow with radiance that nearly matched her own. The trouble was, he was _dirty_. He lived in a smelly old cave, made worse by his dietary issues (he insisted on eating raw meat, the silly old thing, eggs, cheese and whatever that crazed troll put in front of him), and a lack of ventilation. It really was quite embarrassing, and his problem was only made worse by the number of sweets he ate. His fangs were beginning to rot, which wasn't at all nice; she spent four and a half _days_ cleaning them with an old bath-brush she found, (which she used to direct the troll into cooking better things; he really was quite amiable once she taught him how to cook – hereditary knowledge passed down from mother-to-daughter in an unbroken line to her, and explained that at least _five_ pieces of fruit or vegetable should be eaten every day, and a variety of different sorts at that. _Steak_, _pork_ and _mutton_ were _not_ types of vegetable, just as _human_ wasn't a type of fruit any more than liver was. The poor troll was so confused; no wonder all his food was so bad! Could anyone believe he actually used _horse_-pee in his recipes? Utterly disgusting! She burnt that vile cookbook! She was so cross that anyone had ever written such a thing.)

Once she brushed Jierdan's teeth, she scrubbed his scales; the trouble was he kept taking _dust_ bathes. She kept trying to explain that he needed to swim in _water_, but all he'd done was swim in mud and pollute the air because his tummy couldn't settle. She had found some herbs for that (She _did_ listen to what Jaheira said, no matter how boring it was), and after that, his tummy was fine. She had to use her sternest voice to stop him from getting himself dirty again; it really was like dealing with a child. She didn't want to, but it had taken a smacked paw with the back of the brush to make him listen. It was for his own good, she told him. He had sulked, as was expected from boys, but he did obey after that. She had to remind him a few times, but a scolding never hurt anyone. His tail swished sullenly, but he behaved himself after that. He even helped her sweep the cave. It was then she discovered his vendetta against Gorion; how they had a silly argument over some triviality or other back when they were both younger and couldn't be trusted to even clip their toenails, (which was how their dispute started in the first place). Because she could use telepathy (an innate ability she had had since birth, but she didn't like to use), she made Gorion and Jierdan apologise to each other, and they both saw just how silly it was, and pretended they never fought in the first place. (Men.)

Then she had revealed her True Form, a glistening dragon. She hadn't known she could do that, but with the sunrise, she had tapped into her 'potential' (the silly thing Joneleth was always on about), and suddenly it all made sense. She was a celestial dragon, and she could polymorph to humanoid form at will. With a smile, she kissed the red, who turned redder than usual, and now his breath was minty fresh, he was no longer ashamed of it, and kissed her back.

Soon Draconis would have a baby cousin, she promised.


	6. Epilogue

Epilogue

"And then I murdered them all, and the realms were a better place." Imoen finished, snapping the heavy book shut.

"Make it stop…" Her brother whimpered, clutching his head, "Solar…"

"Argh…" Sarevok growled, gripping both temples with one hand.

"Bedtime stories from Immy!" The pink haired girl beamed, "Ain'tcha glad you don't hafta go through that an' have me instead?"

A low growl emanated in the back of Sarevok's throat.

"Tell me… tell me you _didn't_ see that in one of the pools…" Wild eyed, he searched imploringly for the Solar.

Imoen grinned, "Aw, c'mon, an' I didn't even tell ya abou' 'Teel an' Angelo, Vai an' Viconia…"

"Girl, I will end you–"

"Hey now, that ain't nice at all!"

Viconia broke off in a stream of garbled drow curses.

"Bed, now." Jaheira ordered, ignoring the fact that time held no meaning in the pocket plane. "You two – now."

"Heh."

"And you."

Brown eyes flashed, catching gold; the three half siblings exchanged looks. "I see now how you beat me, brother. Heh."

"Oh?" Jaheira asked, her voice tight.

Hastily Sarevok cleared his throat.

His younger brother didn't like to ask how much of Maraesu was modelled on himself, or worse, Jaheira… Imoen and her imagination. Gods, let it be her imagination…


End file.
